Man, I suck. But yesterday I decided when i woke up that I would finish this and post it... So i wrote all day then noticed that i was incredibly tired and it was five am... so turns out i wrote all night as well. So i thought i had to get some sleep before posting, and good thing too because some of it made absolutely zero sense. Anyway, so I slept (sorta) and proofed (I hope) and here it is... More to come.

Xoxo


Jessa noticed the figure standing on her doorstep as her truck rumbled up the road. She pulled it to a stop in her driveway and climbed out, wincing as she landed heavily on her leg.

"Can I help you?" The person—a woman—was facing away from her and turned when Jessa spoke.

"Jessamine, dear." She greeted, a wide grin spreading across her face, "Missouri Mosley." She answered the question Jessa didn't ask. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Uh, yeah, of course." She stammered, stepping around the virtual stranger to unlock her front door.

Upon entering the house, Jessa opened her mouth to speak but Missouri got in first. "Black, two sugars. Thank you, dear."

Jessa nodded and led her to the kitchen where she switched the coffee maker on.

"So, um, don't take this the wrong way, but—"

"Why am I here?" Missouri finished the question, and Jessa nodded. "Your daddy has a lot of people looking out for you kids. Even now."

This made Jessa smile. There was no doubt in her mind that Missouri was one of the few legit psychics in the world and to have her keeping an eye on her was a comfort.

"Now, why don't you pour us some coffee and tell me what's going on."

Jessa obliged and they sat at the table with coffee's in hand to talk.

She sighed and stared into her mug as she recounted the tale.


Jessa already hated this place and they had only been here for a month. At thirteen, Jessa already knew this drill too well. John would check them all in to a motel, enrol them in a local school, then carry on with numerous nearby hunts. Thankfully the motel wasn't far from the school because right now John was 'too busy' to take them to and from school so they had to walk. Every morning Dean would pack their lunches from the meagre supplies John had left them, and Jessa was in charge of breakfast. Then, they would walk Sam to the elementary school before continuing the extra mile or so to the middle school. This one particular day, however, they were running slightly late due to Jessa's unwillingness to bother.

"J, come on, it's bad enough that you're making Sam late, but we're going to miss like all of first period."

Dean wasn't the academic type, so Jessa assumed this was to do with the brunette that was seated in front of him for first period.

"Whatever. It's not like we're going to be here long enough for them to punish me." She retorted, kicking a stone with the toe of her boot.

"I like it here." Sam, who had been silent until that point, piped up from between his older siblings. "I want to stay."

"We don't have a choice, Sammy. We go where Dad can get work." Dean told his little brother, laying a hand on his shoulder when his face fell.

They walked in silence for a few minutes until Sam's school came in to view and they heard the bell. He looked up at Dean for permission, and when he nodded, Sam took off running for his classroom.

Neither Jessa nor Dean spoke for a while, until Dean noticed his twin no longer walking beside him.

"What are you doing?" He asked when he spotted her a few feet behind him, staring at a spot off the sidewalk.

"There's something there." She pointed to a lump of something in the long grass of the vacant lot. Jessa took a few steps toward it but Dean grabbed her arm.

"We're already late. We don't have time for this."

Jessa just shook herself free of his grip and continued toward the lump.

"What is it?" Dean asked from a few steps behind her.

Jessa leaned over it and picked it up. "A backpack." She opened the flap and found a name. "Christina Short."

"Isn't that the high school chick that went missing a couple of days ago?" Dean asked. "I saw posters up at school."

Jessa glanced around them and noticed a second clump of colour not far away—only this one was significantly larger. She took a tentative step toward it before she saw the dirty fan of blonde hair decorating the grass. "Dean."

Dean followed her gaze and he too recognised what they were staring at: the lifeless body of a stranger.

Dean's hand grabbed his twin's and he gently tugged on it. "We have to call the cops."

"I saw a pay phone back there." Neither sibling looked away from the body, they just slowly backed away. When Jessa felt the sidewalk under her feet she took off at a run to the pay phone.


When Jessa and Dean arrived at school—dropped off by the cops— over two hours late, neither spoke when asked about it. The day passed in a blur, and Sam frowned when neither of them joined in his enthusiasm as he recounted his day on the walk home.

John was at the motel when they got back, furious saying the cops had called him and he asked them what they did this time. Neither of them told him, but when John entered their room a few hours later he was considerably less mad as he explained that he spoke with a detective Parish again and he explained what happened.

"I don't want to talk about it, Dad." Jessa snapped at him, getting up and locking herself in the bathroom.

Laying in her bed that night she was unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the glazed, unseeing eyes of Christina Short.

"J?" Dean whispered into the darkness. "Are you awake?"

Jessa didn't answer right away, and Dean assumed she must have been asleep, but after a few more moments he heard her whisper, "She wasn't much older than us."

"I know."

"What do you think happened?" Jessa rolled on to her side so she was facing her brother's bed. "The cops wouldn't tell me."

"I overheard the ME. He thinks she was sexually assaulted before she was stabbed. He said she was there a couple of days before we found her."

Jessa didn't speak. She went over and over it in her mind. Where her last moments full of fear? Did she know death was coming? Did she die with the hope that she could get away?

"We've both killed before." Dean finally said. Jessa heard him roll on to his back. "But…"

He trailed off, so Jessa finished, "This is different. She was innocent. Human."

"Yeah."

Neither of them spoke again, but neither managed to drift off to sleep. Eventually the sun came up and both siblings got up to go about their usual routine.


"Go on." Missouri prompted her when she stopped the story.

"You know what happened next." Jessa said quietly, not looking at her.

"Do I?"

"I do, so you do too."

"Go on."


"Look after your brother." John told the twins as he packed spare ammo into his bag. "Don't leave the room after dark, keep the shotgun by the door, and don't open it unless it's me. I should be home tomorrow and there's enough food for tonight, but just in case I left you twenty."

"We know the drill, Dad." Jessa said with a roll of her eyes. She instantly knew it was a mistake by the glare he sent her.

"We got itl, Sir." Dean answered, giving his twin a pointed look.

John patted Dean on his shoulder then surprised everyone by pressing a kiss to Jessa's forehead, "Stay safe, Jemmy." He waved goodbye to Sam and with one last 'Lock the door behind me' he was gone.

"Who's Jemmy?" Sam asked from where he lay sick in bed.

"Jessa." Dean answered because Jessa was too dumbstruck to form a proper sentence.

"He hasn't called me that since Mom." She finally managed.

"He's scared." Dean whispered, careful to keep his voice low enough so Sam couldn't hear. To the nine-year-old, his dad was still Superman.

"That is scary."

Dean hummed his agreement but the pair were interrupted by the sounds of Sam hurling.

"I got it last time." Dean was quick to say.

"At least—" Jessa started but stopped when she turned around and realised that Sam had not thrown up in the bucket they put there, but all over himself, the bed, and the floor.

"I'm sorry." He started to sob as he vomited again.

"Don't worry, Sammy." Jessa sighed. "Go hop in the shower and put your pyjamas in the basin."

Sam just nodded and did as he was told. A few moments later she heard the sounds of him retching through the locked door and she prayed it was in the drain this time.

Jessa dutifully took the soiled sheets from the bed and dumped them into a bucket before running water in them from the sink. She then enlisted Dean's held to get the mattress outside before she grabbed towels and mopped up the mess on the floor.

By the time the shower was finished she had the mess all but cleaned.

"Where am I going to sleep?" Sam asked, stepping out of the bathroom in clean pyjamas.

"You can sleep in my bed." Jessa offered, tossing the puke-towels in the bucket with the sheets. "Just promise to puke in the bucket next time, buddy, okay?"

Sam nodded his head.

"Dean, run these to the laundromat across the street." She ordered, handing her brother the fowl smelling bucket.

"Gross, why don't you?"

"Because whoever doesn't do it, has to scrub the mattress."

Dean considered his options before grabbing the bucket and the money John left them.

Jessa led Sam into the adjoining room and tucked him in to her bed, placing his glass of water on the nightstand. "Remember, only small sips if you get thirsty." She told him.

Sam just nodded and closed his eyes.

It didn't take long before the sun had set and Jessa had the mattress clean. Dean was sitting on his bed sharpening his knife when Jessa locked them into the room.

"How's Sam?" She asked.

"Sleeping." Dean didn't even look up from his blade.

"Good." Jessa sat cross legged on the end of Dean's bed, facing him. "What's Dad hunting?"

Dean cast a quick look to Sam to ensure he was still sleeping before answering, "Ghouls in the next town over."

They remained silent for a long while before Jessa spoke again, this time quieter than before. "Why is he scared?"

This made Dean stop his calculated movements on the blade. "Christina."

"What?"

"J, she was blonde, green-eyed, and young. She was murdered right here in town— he's scared for you."

"He shouldn't be." She said, taking the knife from him and continuing to sharpen it.

"He's our Dad."

"He's subjected us to things way more scary than some guy that gets off hurting girls."

Dean opened his mouth to explain that it was probably more of the fact that John had realised how easily it could have been his own daughter killed, rather than the knowledge that it happens, but he opted against it.

"Here." Jessa finished and passed her brother back his knife.

"Thanks." He mumbled, stowing it in the nightstand.

They sat in complete silence for a while before Dean got up to fix them some cereal for dinner. It was then that Jessa checked on Sam and noticed his fever spike.

"Dean, Sam's really hot."

"What?" He looked up from what he was doing, spilling milk over the counter in the process.

"He's burning up."

"Go get a towel or something."

Jessa rushed into the small bathroom and got one of the off-white face cloths from the basin and rinsed it with cold water. When she returned to the room, Sam was wide awake with the blanket pulled to his chin, shivering.

"Jessie, I don't feel well." He muttered.

"I know." She sat down next to him and put the towel against his head. "Does that feel better?"

Sam nodded weakly.

Hours passed the same way—Jessa and Dean both attempting to cool down their sick brother with nothing working.

"I'm going to go get something." Jessa finally insisted.

Dean was freaking out, pacing around the room, but he shot Jessa a 'no way' kind of look.

"Relax." Jessa told him, "There was an all-night drug store a couple of blocks up the road. I'll go get something for him."

"Dad told us not to leave the room." Dean objected.

"Dad also said to take care of Sam."

Dean watched as his sister grabbed the last of the money and left the room. He quickly locked the door behind her and grabbed the shotgun that John insisted they keep. He felt better with the weapon in his hands.

"Jessa will be back soon, Sammy." Dean's words reassured himself as well as his little brother.

Dean was freaking out—more than before. It had been too long! The drug store wasn't far, and Jessa knew that he would be worried. She wouldn't take this long unless something was wrong.

"Stay in bed, Sammy." Dean grabbed the room key and his newly sharpened hunting knife. "I'm going to find J, okay?" When he didn't receive a reply, Dean looked over to see the small boy sleeping. He was still sweating profusely but Dean counted his sleeping as a small victory. He was just about to pull the door open when fists pounded on it. Dean peeked through the window to see Jessa standing nervously on the other side. He quickly reefed it open. "What the hell took you so long?" He demanded, sliding the deadbolt back into place.

"It was busy."

"Busy? J, it's one am!"

"Night shift workers, I don't know."

Dean could sense her withholding something, but he also sensed he shouldn't push it so he backed off and watched as she gently woke Sam to give him the medicine.


"Dad got back a few hours later and we skipped town." She finished while staring into her now-empty coffee mug.

"You never told anyone what happened?"

"Not for years."

"What happened after?" Missouri pressed.

"After?"

"Something is bothering you, young Winchester, why do you think I came?"

"Fine."


Jessa sat at her desk in the BAU going over the stack of files she was asked to consult on.

"Ugh!" She let her head fall on to the wooden desk, the resulting thump causing Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid to look up from their own work.

"Woah, you right, Winchester?" Prentiss asked with a small smirk.

"There's too much. I quit." She was already exhausted from the last months' worth of paperwork, this just pushed her over the edge.

"Just think, Bright Eyes, next week you'll be back to playing in the big leagues." Morgan teased.

"Yeah." Jessa lifted her head off the desk and peeled off the sheet of paper that had stuck to her.

The others must have noticed her change in demeanour, because the jokes stopped.

"Everything alright?" Prentiss pressed.

"Just this case." Jessa grabbed the rest of the file and flicked through. "Fifteen-year-old murders have started up again."

"That's a long dormancy period." Morgan commented.

"Generally when an Unsub stops killing for a long period of time it's forced. Maybe he was locked up?" Reid supplied.

"Or he could have moved to a different town." Prentiss threw out.

"No." Jessa answered after a quick database search. "No killings like this nationwide since the '92 murders in Leesburg, Virginia."

"He popped up in the same place?"

"Yeah. That must be home. Here." She tossed the file to Morgan's desk—it being the closest to hers.

"What am I looking at?" He asked her.

"He's preferential. Victim one."

Morgan flipped through and pulled out the school picture of Christina Short. "Pretty." He commented before reading through. "Cheerleader, volleyball player, active community volunteer… Killing someone like that creates attention."

"She was raped and murdered. It was two days before anyone found her body."

He noticed something in her tone and then flipped to the police report from then. "Says here the body was found by two middle schoolers…"

"God, could you imagine seeing something like that at that age?" Prentiss asked rhetorically.

"Yeah." Jessa mused, but Morgan caught on to what she was saying.

"Jessa?"

She just nodded, understanding the silent question. Yes, Derek, it was almost me.

"Who are the latest victims?" He asked.

Jessa brought up their images on her screen and rotated it so he could see. Three young girls, aged fourteen to seventeen, all blonde, all attending the same school, all found within a three block radius of the other.

Jessa grabbed the file off Morgan's desk and ran up the stairs to their boss's office. She knocked twice then let herself in.

"Winchester." He didn't look up from his paperwork, "what can I do for you?"

"I want to take on a case." This caused him to look up.

"Oh?"

"It's not far, Leesburg, but I think they can benefit from having me there."

"Have we been invited?"

"No, but I was asked to consult."

"Then write up a profile and send it back."

"Hotch—"

"My answer is no, agent Winchester."

"Yes, sir." She sighed and left.


"Jessa?" Jessa was just about to hit send on her email when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she jumped into action and had the arm of her interrupter pinned behind him. When she realised who it was she released him instantly, taking a step backwards. "Shit, Hotch. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He rubbed his shoulder. "Are you okay? You're jumpy."

"Fine."

He glanced at the computer behind her. "Is that the case you were consulting on?"

"Yeah, I was just sending the profile."

"And?"

"It's vague, but I think he just got out of prison, or some other institution, considering there was a fifteen-year dormancy period."

He nodded, "Go home. It's getting late."

For the first time Jessa noticed that they were the only people in the bullpen.

"Maybe I should."

"I'll walk you out."


"What are you going to do about it?" Missouri asked, knowing this was the end of the story.

"I don't know yet."

"Yes you do." The older woman stood up and placed her mug on the counter before heading toward the door.

"That's it?" Jessa called out after her, "You came all this way to hear me tell the story?"

"I came all this way to help you work through something." She smiled, "This is bothering you more than you would like to think."

Jessa thought for a moment and realised she was right. It had been almost two days since then and she hadn't stopped thinking about it.

Missouri opened the front door and stepped into the night.

"At least let me drive you somewhere." Jessa offered, following her out.

"I called a cab. Besides, you have a visitor."

Jessa had no idea who could be visiting at almost nine pm, but she watched Missouri climb into a cab. By the time the taillights disappeared around the corner, a set of headlights approached from the other direction. She watched as her boss stepped out of the vehicle.

"Expecting someone?" He asked as she stood at the door.

"Sort of." Jessa smiled. "To what do I owe this late visit."

Hotch smiled sheepishly and ran a hand over the back of his neck, "Sorry, it's just… I couldn't stop thinking about that case you brought in a couple days ago."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

Jessa took a step backwards and left the door open. "Come in."


Okay, so i got really wrapped up in the flashbacks, but its so fun doing young Jessa.

Anyways, until next time.